Only The Good Die Young
by Anne Herbold
Summary: OneshotSongficCathPOV. Catherine Willows knew the rumbling and the rain was hers. She related it to all the tears she had been, and still was crying for Michael Keppler. CathKeppler


**Summary: A Little Oneshot I did the morning after 7x15 (Keppler's last episode). It's in Cath's point of view. (Cath/Keppler, just to warn GCR and Yoblingers and others who hate Keppler). It's basically how Catherine feels after Keppler, how she copes, and a few flashbacks. This is a song fic as well, I suppose (Billy Joel's Only the Good Die Young), and I used only the lyrics which I found significant to the story. Enjoy!**

**Author's Note: I hope you like this guys! I've been too distracted with homework, ACT preparation and other crap to actually get to work on To Amarantha, so I thought this may satisfy your bellies. Please R and R! Be kind!**

**Disclamer: The day I own CSI is the day that Keppler comes back to sweep Cath off her feet and tell Gil to shave and skip the krispy kremes (yo izzy! lol!) no offence to billy lovers, i just miss the beardless, lighter Gil! Waah!**

Only the Good Die Young

The rain poured down in Trenton, New Jersey, but never so hard as on the little Catholic graveyard she stood in. As in all rainy days, the sky was a thick grey with the clouds overhead in their occasional ominous manner, thundering away. Catherine Willows knew the rumbling and the rain was hers. She related it to all the tears she had been, and still was crying for Michael Keppler.

Despite what her team and the entire lab thought of him, she knew better. He was a kind, loving man, despite his shady past and the others' preconceptions. In the brief time she had known him, Catherine knew she loved him.

He was a hard man, with a shell thick enough to encase his whole being and hide him away from the world. Catherine, on her first meeting with him during that dark night inside the yellow tape, promised herself she would get to him and open his shell. To her, he was just another Sam Braun with enough locks, chains and layers to hide the true man. She thought it would be easy to unravel the enigman known as Keppler. She was wrong.

**XXXXX**

At first he did nothing but frustrate her, touching the corpse without gloves, jumping to conclusions without scientific backup or facts, and playing detective when being a CSI counted the most. But he made up for it in so many ways; his humor (much more relatable than Gil's), his confidence, his tenacity, and strength. Never once did he flinch emotionally or physically at any of the unsettling things occuring during a case. And never did he ever doubt her.

Reverse Forensics. Two words, just two words that would change both their lives forever. She didn't think it would work, ever. Her guys would figure it all out, she knew. But he would just smile, his vast azure eyes sparkling, telling her all was well and it would work for the best, eventhough he too was nervous as hell.

No matter the risks, and the guilt she felt betraying her "family", there were, suprisingly, no regrets. None. The sense of paranoia and fear during the whole ordeal was soon overwhelmed by feeling alive. In her over forty years of life, Catherine had never felt so revived by the recklessness and air of danger. She loved it. Loved every minute of it. Especially with him.

**XXXXX**

After a few drinks, Mike had actually gotten her to dance. Sure it took a few beers and refusals, but Catherine gave in completely. He was a great dancer, his limbs moved effortlessly with hers during many of Glenn Miller's classics. But then, right there, the song had changed, slower, newer, the dimming lights mellowed the atmosphere Both bodies moved effortlessly closer, her head resting on his chest and his lips resting on her soft hair.

His voice was a smooth, yet rumbled, velvet, "Catherine."

"Yeah?" She didn't look up, never wanting to lose the perfect moment in her life.

"This is gonna be a good thing."

She couldn't help but smile. And she wondered if he could feel the corners of her mouth moving upward in ecstasy, "Yeah, it is gonna be a good thing." Feeling his strong hand gently move up her side, reaching her chin, tilting it towards his face and pressing his lips softly upon her plush coral ones, a chill ran up her body. This was going to be a wonderful thing.

**XXXXX**

Sam, Eddie, and Amy. That's what was before the dancing. Both were then broken. Now, as she lay in his arms, and both loved one another, the pieces were picked up and patched together. Pretty damn perfect, she thought. Neither of them were clean souls; smudges of mistakes, sins and regrets shown, but what did they care? They were in the present, the past far behind them. Nothing could touch them, and the future was eminent.

"Mike, can I tell you something?" Catherine whispered in his ear.

"Sure."

"I think I love you," she blushed.

His laugh ran throughout his aprtment. His eyes locked his hers, once again serious, "Yeah? Well, I know I love you, Catherine."

"God, Mike, I love you!," she beamed, both laughing afterward.

**XXXXX**

Standing in front of his grave, a song from when she was still a youth creeped slowly into her brain;

_Come on Virginia show me a sign  
Send up a signal I'll throw you the line  
The stained-glass curtain you're hiding behind  
Never lets in the sun  
Darlin' only the good die young  
I tell ya  
Only the good die young ..._

_They say there's a heaven for those who will wait  
Some say it's better but I say it ain't  
I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints  
The sinners are much more fun...  
_

_Sooner or later it comes down to fate  
I might as well be the one,  
You know that only the good die young  
I'm telling you baby_

_Only the good die young ...  
_  
.

"It's you isn't it?! Singing that song? You always did have that sick sense of humor," she spoke aloud. Tears once again flooded her eyes, but she did not weep; laughter came out as she twirled in about, her smile as big as her tears. She was living again and she would for always. He had taught her that. She had accomplish something that many could not.

"If you could see me, Michael, if you could see me now, you'd know what you've done to me..."

* * *

Well? Please don't be offended. I'm just a Liev Schrieber fan putting her emotions into art. I hope you all like it. Pleas let me know. 


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